he married
couple, as far as he could induce them to make it so. There must be
born the future infant to whose existence he was already looking
forward with some idea that in his old age he might there find
comfort. In such case, though he should never again be able to love
Paul Montague in his heart of hearts, he must live with him for her
sake on affectionate terms. He must forgive Hetta altogether,--as
though there had been no fault; and he must strive to forgive the
man's fault as best he might. Struggling as he was to be generous,
passionately fond as he was of justice, yet he did not know how to be
just himself. He could not see that he in truth had been to no extent
ill-used. And ever and again, as he thought of the great prayer as to
the forgiveness of trespasses, he could not refrain from asking himself
whether it could really be intended that he should forgive such
trespass as that committed against him by Paul Montague! Nevertheless,
when he rose from the wall he had resolved that Hetta should be
pardoned entirely, and that Paul Montague should be treated as though
he were pardoned. As for himself,--the chances of the world had been
unkind to him, and he would submit to them!

Nevertheless he wrote no answer to Hetta's letter. Perhaps he felt,
with some undefined but still existing hope, that the writing of such
a letter would deprive him of his last chance. Hetta's letter to
himself hardly required an immediate answer,--did not, indeed, demand
any answer. She had simply told him that, whereas she had for certain
reasons quarrelled with the man she had loved, she had now come to the
conclusion that she would quarrel with him no longer. She had asked
for her cousin's assent to her own views, but that, as Roger felt, was
to be given rather by the discontinuance of opposition than by any
positive action, Roger's influence with her mother was the assistance
which Hetta really wanted from him, and that influence could hardly be
given by the writing of any letter. Thinking of all this, Roger
determined that he would again go up to London. He would have the
vacant hours of the journey in which to think of it all again, and
tell himself whether it was possible for him to bring his heart to
agree to the marriage;--and then he would see the people, and perhaps
learn something further from their manner and their words, before he
finally committed himself to the abandonment of his own hopes and the
completion of theirs.